I just got home from church today when I see two little boys on bikes pull into our driveway, park, hop off and head to are yard. "Hey! What are you doing?"
They said they wanted to pick some dandelions and – since I caught them trespassing – they asked if they could. "What are you going to do with them, eat them?" No, they said. "We're going to sell them to people and get rich!"
Oh boy. Pick away.
While they were picking, I heard one boy say, "Let's sing a song about this." Then I heard them making up a song while picking – something about having all the money in the world to buy Pokemon cards and what sounded like "hover boards" and other good stuff. It was the cutest thing. they didn't long, though.
And did yell a thank you and "Goodbye, Cat!" since Sylvester was keeping an eye on things through the screen door. I yelled back, "Good luck!"
I know firsthand that pulling weeds can be a lucrative business.
I want to say my twin and I were something like 8 or 9 years old when our dad said he'd pay us to pull thistles in the yard. A nickel for regular-sized ones and a dime for the big ones. We lived on an acre lot so you can imagine the dollar signs in our eyes!
But then reality hit, too. Thistles are prickly business. And an acre is a lot, a lot of ground to cover!
We were on an honor system. I'm sure Dad didn't want to handle them all. So we had to keep a running total in our heads. No sure how long we were at it, but the money sure was adding up slowly. That's when we eyed up those thistles as tall as we were, growing just on the other side of the fence. So we went off-property to get some of those. Money-hungry kids!
There were some big ones by our back shed, too, that we dug up legitimately, but in all honesty, I guess we scammed you, Dad. If you're watching from heaven, please don't read this blog! I can give Mom the $1.80 I probably "earned" that day. Promise.
Let me just pick some of these leftover dandelions in my yard so I can pay her.
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